Magic and Heritage

This weekend at my place of employment, a coworker outed herself to me as a witch.

We had talked briefly about similar things at an earlier time, and she confirmed it by asking me a question. The wording itself was very peculiar to me, but she was essentially asking (or so I take it) if I am able to identify other magic-users.

It was the peculiar wording, however, that interested me. Because she put it in terms of bloodline.

I had to admit I didn’t know what she was talking about. That yes, I can usually tell if someone is magically inclined or attuned. (Not necessarily that they practice magic, but that they have the talent inherent. As Mike Sententia might say, their etherial muscles seem more naturally developed.) But she seemed to be referring to a specific tradition or lineage of teaching that I was not familiar with.

But the idea of magic being inherent to a bloodline intrigued me.

I am not a psychic. My magical abilities have been developed over time with practice. But I recognize that for whatever reason, that ability is easier for me to access and harness than it is for most people. That it is inherent to my being, whereas most people ignore it.

I’ve never liked the idea that only certain people can do magic. I think anyone can do it, but it simply comes more natural to some. Some people find it easier to stay fit and build muscle, while others struggle to loose weight and tone up. Sure, I could look like Vin Diesel, but I will have to work significantly harder at it than he does (and he works fairly hard at it) simply because my constitution is different. And I think the same is true with magical ability.

But I never thought of that as a heritable trait.

My mother has told me stories of her grandparents and great-grandparents. They came from Northern Italy, and from the way she described their dress, their music, and their customs sounded suspiciously Romani to me. My grandmother had what Joss Whedon might call a fragmented reality matrix, and was never quite grounded in the world around her. She had some very sharp lucid periods, though, where she seemed hyperaware of everything that was going on around her. In such moments she verged on prophecy, and on a few occasions she crossed that line.

My mother, devout Catholic that she is, has always been highly attuned to the people she cares about, and instantly knows if friends and family are in peril or crisis, usually contacting them first. Her visions of spirits that I was working with served more to assuage my fears of insanity from my early magical work more than anything else. My sister is also plagued by spirits and other entities, and has an intense interest in demonology and angelology. She frequently reports contact with deceased family and friends, some of which I have confirmed from my own experiences.

I am not a hereditary witch. My magic was learned independent from my family and its native Catholicism, and my paganism still faces opposition and resistance from some family members. But the talent is there. Cultivated or not, there is definitely a strong family history of occult and metaphysical abilities.

It runs in the family.

And I have heard stories from magic-using friends about many of their family histories being magically inclined as well. In many of these cases (as in my own), some members reject this ability and often appear to suffer for it. But the observations of others usually confirms that some of this ability is passed on genetically.

As I become more comfortable with Pete Carroll’s models, and the notion that magic is the result of physical phenomena, this doesn’t bother me much. But it flies against the egalitarian approach I had cultivated that anyone could learn magic.

But like any skill, anyone can. It just takes more effort for some and is easier for others. Certain magical techniques are extremely difficult for me and easy for others, and this may also be the result of a heritable predisposition.

It magic something that you’re born with? Yes. And no. It is a skill influenced and predisposed by genetic factors (somehow), but ultimately only developed and utilized through hard work, motivated study, and practice. Even Vin Diesel will get fat if he sits on his ass.

And does the apparent predisposition to magic and magical sensitivity make other better than those without it? Not inherently. It’s just easier for us to start out.

Heritage

As a child, I took great pride in my Irish heritage. I loved St. Patrick’s day, and refused to use any soap other than Irish Spring. My father spoke of our family history of resistance to the “damn Limeys.” I heard the tale of my great-grandfather crossing the Atlantic, and regarded Cork County with kind of a religious awe. As I got older, it stopped being as important.

When I began my magical practice oh so many years ago, I didn’t concern myself with investigating the practices and beliefs of my ancestors. I immersed myself pretty early in Qabalistic ceremonial magic, and from there Chaos Magic, and didn’t really have an interest in my heritage or the magical traditions thereof. I recognized that I had Celtic heritage, but it meant nothing to me magically, and religiously I was really more agnostic than anything else.

Several years ago, I began questing for some gods to devote myself to. I looked at what I was doing in my life and what I thought I wanted to do at the time and started there. I ended up connecting with the gods of the Roman pantheon, which interestingly enough lined up with the other side of my family tree. My roots reach back through time and geography to Florence, which was founded as a retirement community for Roman soldiers. My lineage can be traced to Rome. And unlike the Celtic gods and culture, the Roman ones call to me.

Not very Celtic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So I have studied my Italian heritage, and found great comfort in it. The traditions — even the Christianized ones — have been a source of strength for me.

Now I don’t want to imply that magical or religious strength and inspiration can only come from following your genetic heritage. In fact, which that is partially the case for me, it is also partially not the case: my ties to the Celts are strong genetically but not spiritually or magically. What I found significant is that my identity was tied in one aspect of my heritage in my youth, and has now almost completely divorced itself from that aspect, and what I found was a part of my heritage I had neglected. (Deeper research into my family history has also suggested some Romani roots, which would provide an interesting tie to the Hindu gods.)

But magical, or even spiritual heritage, can be distinct from genetic heritage. The gods seek us out on their own terms, and we should not feel limited to where our biological roots are from, but where our hearts are called. The gods will connect to us as they are able. In my case, it was just easier to do so through my neglected family tree.

I’ve always liked Mediterranean food better anyway.